


Warmth of hands

by WahlBuilder



Category: The Technomancer (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff without Plot, M/M, Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27454897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WahlBuilder/pseuds/WahlBuilder
Summary: Anton gives Viktor a shoulder and neck massage.
Relationships: Anton Rogue/Viktor Watcher
Kudos: 4





	Warmth of hands

Vik’s body knows mostly violence, either of a combat-related kind or sexual. Anton likes keeping him on his toes — giving him something different. He says: “You must be having awful headaches, _mon Colonel_ , your shoulders alone make me concerned.”

“Do you want to give me a massage, Mr. Rogue?” The tone implies a challenge, a taunt.

Anton throws his own challenge and says: “Yes.”

To Anton’s surprise, Viktor agrees to the shoulder and neck massage.

Anton intends to do it dry, all professional — but frankly Viktor’s skin is so dry it’s a wonder he’s not bleeding from micro-abrasions and wounds and cracks, so Anton brings massage butter, too, to apply after. He brings several varieties, including one nearly without fragrance, so that Viktor could choose. Viktor chooses one that smells of chocolate. Interesting.

“How do you like it? Rough? Very rough?”

They have to do it in the bedroom, because... Viktor is too tall even on a chair. So Anton sits him on the bed, surrounds him with pillows for support.

“I... am not sure.”

He rubs his hands against each other to warm them up. Then stops. “You’ve never had a massage?”

Viktor’s back tenses up even more. “Never.”

Anton wonders whether it’s a good idea to do it. But then, if Viktor hadn’t wanted it, he would have said no, right? “It might be a little painful, but I’ll try to work you slowly. If you feel uncomfortable for whatever reason, any reason, you tell me to stop, okay?”

Viktor chuckles. “Should we agree on a safeword?”

Oh gods. “If you want.”

“Then the word is ‘Abundance’.”

By the _gods_.

He starts slowly. And then Viktor asks for “harder”. And “harder”.

And then he groans. As though he can’t help it, low and coming from his chest, but he doesn’t tell Anton to stop, so Anton doesn’t. And gets more of those groans.

It’s arousing, but in some... aesthetic way. Not to mention the power trip, because here is his nemesis, groaning from pleasure under his hands, and they are not trying to kill each other or outsmart each other, and Viktor is leaning into his touch, and then Anton presses on his neck slightly to make him bend his head forward, and runs a thumb down that bare neck just... just because, and Viktor shudders, and it’s so, so satisfying. But also frustrating.

“Harder.”

“Vitya, if I press harder, I might break your neck.”

“I care not. _Harder_.”

Maybe he should deny Viktor. Tease him a little. Remind him who’s in control here... Lessening the pressure, making his touch feather-light earns him a delightfully frustrated whine that he won’t forget anytime soon.

“Stop teasing!”

He drags his thumbs down Viktor’s neck with force, and Viktor shudders again, and Anton feels like he’s drunk. He’d like to work on the whole of Viktor, on his long limbs, his back... But he doubts he’d be allowed to.

Viktor is sufficiently hot and soft and relaxed, so Anton gradually eases his touch in earnest, making it soothing, then reaches for the butter one-handed, maintaining contact. He warms the bar in his hand and then spreads the silky stuff on Viktor’s skin, rubbing it in lightly. He thinks Viktor is dozing off.

He wraps a big towel around Viktor, then circles him.

Viktor’s worry lines are smoothed, his face serene. Young. His eyes are closed.

“How are you feeling?”

Viktor doesn’t reply immediately. “Like I’m a spongy chocolate cake with so much rich chocolate on top.”

He chuckles. “Good enough to eat. Lie down and take a nap if you want, but don’t unwrap yourself yet. You are very warm.”

Viktor tilts to the side and curls up. He looks very cosy. Anton pulls a light blanket over him, but resists the urge to stroke his shoulder and pet his hair.

(His hands are going to carry the scent of chocolate for a while. Reminding him.)

“Where did you learn that?”

He picks the butter and puts it back in its container. “From professionals. My kiddies play competitive sports, and, you know, there are lots of injuries in my line of work, so I figured it’s a useful skill to have. And I... simply like it.”

“You like giving?”

“Even more than receiving. I just... Some people are so touch-starved, but they don’t like hugs or holding hands — but they are usually okay with a massage. And I do it well, because my hands are sensitive. And... The opportunity to bring relief from pain, to bring pleasure...” He shrugs, hoping his tone is casual enough, though he knows Viktor always hears the truth behind his words and his tone. “I treasure that. A reminder that my hands can do good, too.”

“Mmm,” Viktor rubs his face on a pillow. “Quit the Vory, I’ll keep you as my personal masseur and my sparring partner.”

He laughs. “No, no, no, I’m nobody’s kept man, sweet one. If someone is keeping anyone here, it should be the other way around.”

“You can keep me for a few hours once in a while for more of this...” Viktor murmurs. He’s falling asleep, and it makes warmth spread in Anton’s chest. Viktor feels safe enough to sleep here.

“It would be the whole thing, Vitya, be prepared. I like spoiling people.” He leaves quietly to the kitchen.

After the nap, Viktor wakes up hungry, and Anton makes him eat a light dinner, explaining about “post-massage hunger”.

And Viktor is dozing off again on the couch in the kitchen, relaxed as Anton has rarely seen him, hopefully less in pain that usual, well-fed, and feeling safe enough to just be — and all of it is Anton’s doing.

Anton is so proud.


End file.
